Father's Day
by Hawki
Summary: Oneshot: Half of the Resistance looked up to John as if he was the messiah. The other half regarded him as being mad. He might not have minded, but he couldn't fight on the frontlines forever. The past was behind him, the future was before him, and both haunted his every action in the present.


**Father's Day**

Phoenix, Arizona, shared the name of a bird from Egyptian mythology. One that would burst into flames and then be reborn, renewed. On July 25, 2004, Arizona had been consumed in nuclear fire. Now, twelve years later, John Connor had yet to see any kind of rebirth. Because right now, all he could see was death.

Not that different from the rest of the world really.

Fighting in daylight made things easier, and harder. Easier, because he and the rest of the Resistance forces fighting block by bloody block, could better see the machines that were fighting to maintain Skynet's last major stronghold in the state. Harder, because in the light of day, he could further appreciate what Judgement Day had done to the world. The shattered husks of buildings, like desecrated gravestones on which no names would ever be inscribed. Lines of cars down the streets, many of them overturned, many of them with the skeletal remains of their occupants still inside. Skeletons of men, women, and children alike. And under the midday sun, burning his skin through nuclear fusion rather than fission, he could see the machines as well. About fifty metres away, refusing to give up their position. He could see T-7T "Spiders," scuttling around – perhaps the only machines that Skynet could throw at them en masse (at least here, so far from its command hub in the ruins of San Francisco). He could see the T-1 units, deadly and as resilient as they'd been over a decade ago. And worst of all, the T-600s. Standing there like silent sentinels as they unloaded their weapons upon their foes. Even here, he could see their glowing red eyes. Their skull-like faces, as they added the living to the ranks of the dead. They undoubtedly saw him, and he wondered…did Skynet know? Could it have any conception at this point that a mere fifty metres away from one of its angels of death, its greatest foe was within killing distance? Or, he wondered, did that even matter anymore? This war wasn't the one his mother had told him about. Chances were he might not be the leader he'd once been.

Didn't stop him from leading his squad. Keeping them in cover behind cover as the machines at Point Oscar kept firing at them, while the squad kept their heads down. Well, all except Dani, who was firing with her rifle at the Terminators.

"Dani, stop it."

She kept firing. One shot after another, impacting harmlessly against the eight foot metal titans.

"Private, stop the fucking shooting!"

She looked at him, glaring as best a fifteen year old could. "Sir, we-"

"You're not going to anything against them at this range – not with a rifle."

"But we've got to-"

He grabbed her down and pulled downwards, as a volley of fire hit the car she was standing behind. She looked up at him, clearly shaken. She went to say something, but-

"Just sit down, and stay down!"

…but never got the chance, as he shut down Daniella "Dani" Ramos with his words, and turned to Alvin. The only one in the squad who had been military before the bombs fell, and right now, his radio operator. "Alvin," he said.

The operator raised a hand and ducked down, as more gunfire came their way.

"Alvin! Status!"

He looked up at John. "Orders stand – we take the junction."

"With what? Sticks and harsh language?!"

He glared at John. "Orders stand. We take the junction."

_The fuck are you, a machine? _He grabbed the radio phone from him, noticing how the glare intensified. He'd known Alvin for a month, and he'd quickly learnt that the man didn't like him. He was former US Army, but now he was being led by a civilian who'd drifted from one job to another before the bombs fell. John wondered if he had even guessed that he didn't even want to lead. He'd spent his whole life trying to avoid this, and now, the Resistance was already putting him in charge of small units.

Still, Alvin could wait. He took the radio from him.

"The hell you doing?"

John ignored him. "This is Connor."

There was the sound of a scuffle on the end, plus various shouts and exclamations. A mobile operating centre set up seven miles outside the city – the best thing the Resistance had to a command post.

"This is John Connor, Wyoming Squad."

"Connor?" He heard the voice of Lieutenant Li on the line.

"Lieutenant, we need…" He ducked, as the machines continued to fire. "Lieutenant, I need assets diverted to my position. Coordinates are-"

"Negative Connor, all assets are tied up."

John glanced at the sky, at a pair of A-10 Warthogs flying over, and beyond that, a single helicopter flying in the distance.

"You're on your own."

"Sir, I'm telling you – we can't take this position without-"

"Do it Connor. Command out."

The line terminated. Scowling, he handed the radio back to Alvin. "Told you," the man murmured.

John scowled and looked at his squad – seven men and women clustered together, whereas by the start of the day, they'd had over two times that number. As a child, he'd watched people bleed and die for him. As an adult, that had remained true, and then some.

"Orders, sir?" Dennis asked.

He remained silent. The machines kept firing. The sounds of the battle that were consuming the city continued to echo. Gunfire, explosions, the whir of engines.

"Sir, orders!"

He took a breath. They had to take the position. Only to do that, they'd have to advance fifty metres through a hail of gunfire. Plenty of cover, sure, but the closer they got, the easier they'd be to hit. And it wasn't as if the machines were inaccurate either. Case in point being as Janine popped her head up to take a peak and fell down with a yell, as a bullet hit her ear.

"Fuck!"

Becher, their medic, pulled her back and started examining the wound. By the day's end, chances were she'd only have one ear left. John looked back at the squad, but more importantly, their weapons. Two RPG launchers, with a total of six rockets, plus an anti-material sniper rifle. Against the machines, it was a godsend.

"Wang, Thorn, rocket duty. Fire on my command – we're aiming for the T-1s first. "Rocky, on sniper duty. Aim for the T-600s. We-"

"Incoming!"

_Oh no._

There. Descending from the sky. A Hunter-Killer. In the space of a second, John saw the machines begin to advance, and the HK begin to fire. They hadn't advanced on the machines. Now, the machines were advancing on them.

"Move," he whispered. No-one did so, so frozen as they were. "Move!"

They did that, and more. They ran, as the HK began firing on the humans.

John ran. He'd run all his life, and at the age of 31, he was still quite capable of running. The others however, weren't. He watched as Thorn picked up the RPG and began to run, but was shredded by the HK. He fell, and fired the rocket as he did so, hitting one of the buildings and causing some rubble to fall.

_Shit._

Becher had got up and run. Janine rose to her feet as well, and danced as gunfire from the advancing machines shredded her. T-1, T-600, even one of the Spiders? John didn't know. Right now, it didn't matter. She was dead. He wasn't.

The squad, now little more than a fireteam given their numbers, took shelter in the lobby of a bombed out building. John watched as the HK adjusted its position to get a better line of sight on them.

Wang fired a rocket into it. John watched on in dismay as the rocket hit its hull, causing some damage, but not nearly enough to prevent it from re-ordinating itself. To stop it from opening fire.

"Cover! Take cover!"

Wang died quickly. The others managed to take cover behind the pillars.

"Squad, sound off!"

They did so, despite the noise – Alvin. Dani. Thorne. Becher. Four humans, one HK, and machines that were still advancing. They were, in every sense of the word, screwed.

_No._

"Orders?" someone yelled.

_Anger is more useful than despair._

"Sir, orders!"

_John Connor leads the Resistance to victory._

"Sir, what are your fucking orders?!"

_Never stop fighting._

He took a breath. "Thorne, fire on my command. Rest of you, covering fire."

"Covering fire? Against an HK?!" Alvin yelled.

"Do it!"

Thorne looked terrified, but nevertheless, best as he could, using what cover remained, he set up the rifle. He looked at John and nodded. John gave a nod back and looked at the rest of the squad.

"On my command, fire," he said. "Three…two…one…"

"Firing!" Thorne yelled.

A shot rang out through the lobby.

"Now!"

John sprinted forward. The shot pierced the HK's hull, and for a split second, it stopped firing, reorientating itself to the presence of a weapon that could, in theory, do harm. And it was all the time needed for John to keep running.

"Connor? Connor!"

He ignored Alvin. Ignored the HK firing at him, before turning its guns back on the humans that were now firing at it. The intelligence behind the HK had decided to focus on the combatants firing at it rather than running, even if their weapons couldn't dent it. That was its mistake, or at least, John hoped so. Because he sprinted back outside, keeping his head low as he ignored the gunfire of the advancing machines. He found Wang's body. His RPG. A satchel of rockets.

_Come on, come on…_

The machines were firing. The HK was firing. Luckily, not at him.

_Come on… _He screwed in the rocket, and lifted the launcher up to the HK. _Come on…_

He fired. The rocket flew up. Impacting not the HK's hull, but rather being sucked into its updraft. The resulting blast tore apart its engine, and sent the machine into a tailspin.

_Happy landings._

John dropped the RPG and looked up at the machine. So did its ground counterparts for a moment, as it came closer and closer to the ground. Before landing with a crash, destroying half of them.

_Holy shit. _John stared, and for a moment, smiled. He'd destroyed machines before. Before Judgement Day, he'd watched machines destroy other machines. But destroying one of Skynet's thralls…like that…it was-

He yelled and dived for cover as the other machines began firing again. The T-1s, if there were any left, couldn't navigate through the wreckage. The Spiders and T-600s? They had more luck. More so the Spiders, as they came scuttling over the burning wreckage, but John didn't doubt that the Terminators would be far behind.

_Oh shit. _He staggered back, firing his rifle against the scuttling monstrosities. _Oh-_

The Spiders began to fall. It gave him enough time to dive behind cover and quickly gauge where the gunfire was coming from. The lobby, with the rest of Wyoming Squad. Specifically, Dani and Thorne, using their rifles, firing into the Spiders' backs and shredding their battery units. Fast as the Spiders were, they were easily among the frailest of Skynet's ground machines, and the Spiders were falling like the flies their organic counterparts might have caught in their webs.

Some of them turned to fire on the lobby. Gritting his teeth, John started shooting into their backs – pinpoint shots that downed one of them, then two, then three. The Spiders were doomed. The Terminators, all three of them that were crawling over the wreckage however? Not so much.

John gestured with his hand for the squad to come over. Through the dust, he could see Alvin nod and gesture for Dani and Thorne to join him.

_Where's Becher? _John wondered. Nevertheless, he watched as the squad ran to him. As the Terminators, who'd crested the ruin of the HK, trained their sights on them. As their miniguns began to whirl.

"No," John whispered. He opened fire on one of the Terminators. "Damn it!"

They opened fire on the fleeing squad mates, as John's shots pinged off harmlessly against their metal chassis.

"I'm here! I'm right here!"

Kept firing, so that Thorne fell, along with the rifle he carried.

"Shit!" He nevertheless kept firing until Alvin and Dani skidded down behind the car beside him. Three living humans (plus "Skully" in the driver's seat), against three Cyber Research Systems T-600 Terminators. Terrible odds.

"Thorne," Dani whispered. John looked at her, seeing how pale her face was, and how her hands were shaking. "Got to get-"

She stood up. He pulled her down as gunfire echoed over them. "Sit down and stay down!" John yelled.

She didn't say anything. She just lay against the back of the car, cradling her rifle. Whispering. Kind of like…

He looked at Alvin. "Becher?" he asked.

Alvin shook his head.

"Shit!" He looked at the radio. "Give me that."

Alvin obliged. John kept his head down while Alvin loaded an underslung grenade into his rifle. He fired, as John got on the radio.

"Wyoming Squad calling Resistance Command, come in Resistance Command."

"Connor?" He could hear Li's voice on the radio. "Connor, that you?"

"Resistance Command, we need immediate aerial support."

"We had reports about an HK going down in your sector. Was that-"

"That was me, and you can thank me by getting some fucking air support!"

"…roger that. Air support en route. Patching you through."

John looked at Alvin. He fired another grenade. John peaked above as the projectile hit one of the Terminators. It staggered, but it just kept coming. All three of them did.

"Gonna die," Dani whispered. "Gonna die, gonna die…God, don't want to die…"

Alvin fired his third, and last grenade. John fired his first. Both grenades hit the T-600. It staggered again.

_Come on, come on…_

And finally fell, the red lights fading from its eyes.

_Yes! _John looked at Dani. "See kid? We're getting out of this."

She nodded, but winced as more gunfire came their way.

"Connor, think we've got to move!"

John nodded. He slung his rifle over his shoulder, and carried the radio in one hand. With his other, he grabbed Dani's. He nodded at Alvin and the two men sprinted away from the Terminators, keeping their heads down. Wincing, in John's case, as the bullets whizzed around him, before he took cover behind more cars. Some of the last on the freeway. From here, he had Terminators on one side, collapsed buildings on two sides, and a burnt out park behind him. They could only run so far before finding themselves without cover.

Alvin wasn't so lucky. He yelled, and John looked at him, as a bullet tore through his chest. He fell to the ground, bleeding profusely, while John and Dani took cover. For a moment, their eyes met…before the gunfire turned his body into mincemeat.

"Lightning One-One, calling Wyoming, over."

John just sat there, staring. Alvin was dead. Like Becher, like Thorne, like Wang, like Rocky, like everyone in Wyoming Squad except him and a fifteen year old girl.

"Lightning One-One, calling Wyoming, over."

They were dead. He was the one that Skynet had sent Terminators to kill. First his mother. Then him. Then his wife. Always, he survived. Always, he was the one that other people had to die for.

"Lightning One-One, requesting-"

John grabbed the radio from Alvin's body. "Lightning One-One this is Wyoming Actual. Bring the rain, bring it hard, and bring me some fucking hail!"

"Roger that Wyoming, Lightning One-One on approach."

John glanced past the park, past the buildings, past his anger, to the solitary A-10 Thunderbolt II (better known as the "Warthog") approaching them. He took out a flare, activated it, and tossed it over towards the Terminators, a red mist swirling around as if they had crawled out of Hell itself. The machines who were still advancing. Still firing. He ducked down and grabbed Dani's hand. She looked at him, terrified.

He nodded. Few seconds from now, he'd either be dead from gunfire, dead from the Warthog, or, by some miracle, alive. By all rights, he should have been dead before he was even born. That he was still alive in the year 2016 was nothing short of a miracle.

He didn't pray for one. But he got one all the same. As he and Dani kept crouched down as the Warthog opened fire, its GAU Avenger cannon chewing up cars, skeletons, and the road. And most importantly, the two T-600s advancing on them, the projectiles hitting them with such force that both of them were sent hurling back at least five metres.

"Lightning One-One, good hit, good hit." John got to his feet and looked at the two Terminators. One lying against a car it had smashed into, the other on top of that.

"Lightning-One-One, calling Wyoming. Status confirm status of targets.."

John glanced at Dani, who'd got to her feet as well, staring at the Terminators in shock. Her face was still white, but as she turned to John, she gave him a smile. He gave her one back.

"Lightning-One-One, calling Wyoming. Request status of targets."

The smile remained as John pushed his button down on the radio. "Lightning-One-One this is Wyoming. Can confirm that…"

One of the Terminators got up.

_No._

"Wyoming? Please repeat, Wyoming."

The Terminator looked at the humans through blazing red eyes. Standing there, even with its right arm and minigun destroyed, it stood there. Unmoving. Unflinching.

"Lightning-One-One, please advise Wyoming, over."

The Terminator began to walk over to them.

"Lightning-One-One, requesting immediate second run," John said.

Walking very fast.

"Say again Wyoming?"

"Lightning-One-One, I'm ordering a second run!"

"Roger that Wyoming. ETA is-"

John dropped the radio and began to fire. Bursts of rounds, one after another. At this range, coupled with the damage the T-600 had already suffered, it was keeping it at bay. Or at least his was. Dani however was just standing there. Frozen.

"Dani."

Still standing there.

"Dani, shoot!" John grabbed her shoulder and she stared at him, wide eyed.

"Do you want to die?!"

She tried to say something.

"**Do you want to die?!"**

She shook her head profusely.

"Then shoot!"

He went back to shooting the Terminator. And a second later, she did as well. The rat-tat-tat of two high powered rifles filled everything, until at last, it stumbled back onto the ground. Still operational, given the glow in its eyes, but as powerful as the T-600s were, even they had limits. Heck, even the T-800s that had once tried to kill him and twice managed to protect him hadn't been invincible.

For a moment, John dared think of the future. He'd seen the T-1s. The T-400s. The T-500s. Over the last few years, the T-600s. If the future followed the timeline he and his mother had changed, if Skynet developed the machines that had hounded him all his life…what then?

The thought faded, and was replaced with a second line of horror as he saw, up ahead, the other T-600 get to its feet.

_Oh come on!_

Slowly, mind you. It had suffered even more damage from the A-10 than its counterpart had. But it still had a minigun. One that was operational. One that began to rotate. And that was in addition to the other T-600 that was starting to get up again.

_They just keep coming._

John looked at Dani. She looked at him, though this time, without fear. It was like she'd accepted her fate. She kept firing at the advancing T-600, as it wound up its rotary cannon. As if she was ready to die.

John wasn't. So he grabbed her and pulled her down. Which was as well, as Lightning One-One made a second pass, striking the T-600, separating its torso with its legs. John watched as its top half fell beside its bottom half. As the light finally left its eyes.

"Thunder-One-One, calling Wyoming, confirm-"

"Target destroyed," John whispered. "Target destroyed."

"Roger that. Be advised, Command issuing that all squads retain current positions. Skynet is pulling out of Phoenix."

John stood there. Breathing heavily. Sweating.

"Confirmed, Wyoming?"

"Confirmed," John said. "Wyoming Squad holding position."

"Roger that. Thunder-One-One, out."

John let the radio drop on the ground. Dani looked up at him, letting her rifle hang limply in her hands. "Did we win?" she whispered.

John stared at her, not sure what to say. Had they won the battle? Yes. Had they won the war? Well, in one timeline, yes, but this one? This war? This world? He didn't know.

"Did we…I mean, did we…"

John nodded. And the girl before him let out a sob before throwing her arms around his chest and resting her head against it, sobbing.

_Um… _John looked around. He had no idea what to do. Sarah Connor hadn't been one for letting her son cry in the years she'd prepared him for this world. And he suspected his awkwardness might have been picked up by the girl in front of him, because she broke out of the embrace and began trying to wipe her tears.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, even as her throat moved up and down, and her eyes remained red. "I…I…"

John squatted down and gently removed the tears with a finger. Just as a man, a machine, had once done for him. "It's okay to cry now," he said. He smiled, and ruffled her air. "You did good, Dani. Real good. I…"

He trailed off. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw it. A T-600. The one that he and Dani had incapacitated, but failed to destroy. It swung its arm in a sideways loop. John let out a yell and ducked. Dani wasn't so lucky and took the full brunt of the blow, said blow sending her against a car. Right up to the windscreen, beyond which were a pair of skeletons, looking for a third to join their ranks.

_No._

John got to his feet. The Terminator was advancing on Dani.

_I'm the one you want!_

He watched her try to get up. But it was no good. While it only had one arm, it was enough to pound her body, causing a dent in the car she was upon because of the first.

"Get off her!" John picked up his rifle, and yelling, screaming, shot the Terminator. "I'm here! I'm right here!"

It didn't listen. It punched the girl again. And again. And again." Until at last, the rounds John was unloading into its head breached its chassis. The Terminator stumbled, as it shut down. And dropping his rifle, John grabbed Dani and pulled her off the car's bonnet, before the Terminator slumped down on it. Before at last, the red glow in its eyes faded.

"Dani?" John lay the girl gently on the ground. Blood was pouring out of her mouth. Lifting up her shirt, John saw the bruised, mangled flesh. "Dani, come on."

"Dad?" she whispered. She raised a hand to John's cheek.

"Dani?" he whispered. Her head lulled. "Daniella!"

"You came back dad…you came back…"

"Dani, I'm not your…" He trailed off, as her eyes, glazed over, met his. "I'm here," he said. "I'm here."

"Don't leave me again dad…please…not again…"

He took her hand, and held it. "I'm here," John whispered. "I'm here."

* * *

He was still there as the sun set, as a helicopter touched down. He heard it well before it touched the ground, but it was only as a quartet of soldiers filed out, accompanied by Lieutenant Li, that he looked up at them. From the death and destruction around him. From the body of the girl that still lay in his arms. The soldiers didn't give him a second glance as they fanned out to secure the area. Li's attention, on the other hand, was focused entirely on him. He walked over to John, and only then did he get to his feet.

A silence lingered between the two men. Li looked past John – at the Terminators, at the Spiders, at the ruins of the Hunter Killer, still burning in the twilight air. He looked at everything, before returning his gaze to John.

"Just you then?" he murmured.

John nodded, lowering his gaze. After a moment's hesitation, Li patted him on the shoulder, and returned to the helicopter.

John followed, and after finding a seat, was asleep in moments.

* * *

_In his dreams, he'd dreamt the dream he always had since he was ten._

_He could see a burning world, shrouded in eternal night. He could see machines patrolling the land, patrolling the ground, controlling the sea. He could see the remnants of humanity, huddled like rats, struggling to survive hunger, dehydration, disease, and all other manners of death. And above all, he saw them._

John.

_Terminators. Hundreds of them, walking through the barren landscape. Each a walking steel skeleton, each looking onto the world through blazing red eyes. Each a reaper, whose scythe was a weapon firing blue bolts that cut through air, steel, and flesh. In his dreams, he saw the war that his mother had told him about. The war that she had trained him for since he could walk. The war he had tried to stop from coming, and failed._

John.

_In the war she'd told him about, he'd fought. In his dreams, he ran. Ran away from the fire, away from the wave of steel that swallowed the world, away from the screams of the dying. He ran under the shadow of ruined buildings. He climbed up mountains of skulls before sliding back down them on the other side before continuing to run. He ran, and ran, and ran, until he saw the one he always did. The one who always got him to stop running. The man, who was not a man at all._

John, wake up.

_The man walked towards him. His arms turned into blades of cold steel, and his eyes looked upon his target with the same iciness. He walked, and John stumbled backward. Looking at the eyes of the one who had been sent to kill a child. The one who, in the real world, had screamed as the fires took it. The one who, in his dreams, either always killed him, impaled on one of those blades, or caused him to run again._

John, you have to wake up!

_This time, he chose to run. He ran, then climbed up the mountain of skulls that was behind him. He dared to glance down, at the machine, the Terminator, climbing after him. He climbed, and climbed, and climbed, walking on the bones of those who had died in the nuclear fire. Of those who had died, so that John Connor could live. The bones of those who had yet to die for him. He climbed on the bones of better men, until at last, he reached the top. Slowly, he came to the crest…_

John, please…

…_and yelled, as he saw the other demon of his dreams appear. This time, a woman. One who appeared half of flesh, and half of steel, whose eyes shone upon him with a baleful blue light. She who grabbed him by the neck and lifted him up into the air. Like a dark angel, holding him up to the heavens, before allowing him to fall into Hell._

John, you have to wake up!

_She drew him in closer. Studying him. Her artificial lips in an all too real sneer._

"_Do it," John rasped. "Just do it!"_

_She choked him, and he let her. The flesh removed itself from her body until all that was left was a being of steel and hatred. One who drew in the man before her, ready to either kill him herself, or let him fall to her counterpart. The dream only ended one of two ways after this point._

"_John, wake up," the machine whispered._

_But not this time. And he stared, until the blue light from her eyes became blinding, and the machine screamed._

"John, wake up!"

* * *

"John? John!"

He obeyed the machine, and returned to the waking world. Springing up from the bed he was in in a cold sweat. Instinct taking over, he reached for his belt – a pistol, a knife, anything. The machines were here, and if he was going to die, he was going to die fighting. So he looked at the infiltrator beside him and-

"John, it's okay!"

…and he slowly steadied his breathing. His eyes strained in the gloom – he was in an apartment. Its walls were falling apart, its curtains were frayed, and beyond them, he could see the light of the moon. But far closer to him than any of that was something else. Some_one _else.

"Kate?" he whispered.

She nodded. She had a fist below her chin, the golden band on her finger shining in the gloom. The one he'd given to her years prior after finding it in the ashes of a jewellery store in Carson City. The one that was identical to his, and a weak imitation of the one she'd received from Scott before he'd died, along with half of the world's population. He sighed, and laid back on the bed. "Where am I?" he murmured.

"Well, right now, you're in Room 4A of Darling Residences. – little motel seven miles out of Phoenix."

"Phoenix?" John murmured. He rubbed his forehead. "Phoenix…"

"Phoenix is ours," Kate said. "I mean, it cost a lot, but it's ours."

He glanced at her, and saw the way she'd put her hands in her pockets, her thumbs sticking out. It was a tell – the one she'd always used after treating the injured and the dying. If Kate was here, and the Resistance was here, then it stood to reason that those injured were here as well, and-

"I shouldn't be here," John murmured.

He tried to get up, but Kate pushed him down. "John, no."

"I need to get back to-"

"John, I said no."

"Kate, I can't be in here when people are-"

"Li's orders," Kate said. "And mine."

John scowled at her. "You start off as a vet, then train as a doctor, and now you're a shrink?"

"They want you to stay here for now," Kate said, ignoring his jibe. "Keep you under observation for any…manifestations."

John snorted, then began to laugh. He laid back down on the bed and continued to laugh. "They want to know if I'm crazy."

"Wouldn't say that, but-"

"I get it, y'know," he said. "Machines from the future. Terminators. Little inconvenience of being the only one to survive over and over." He looked at Kate, who was standing over him, a look of concern etched in her features. "Well, tell Li I'm fine. Tell him I'm ready to get back into the field and find a new way to die."

"While you do what? Have more nightmares?"

"I've had nightmares for over half my life Kate. I'm used to them." His eyes narrowed. "Thought you were used to that by now."

She didn't say anything. She just stood there, looking down on him, like a ghost in the moonlight.

In the early days, it had been worse for her, he reflected. He'd had the privilege of nineteen years of getting ready for the nuclear fire that would consume the world. She'd had about twelve hours. After the bombs fell, after the world ended…it had been hard for her to take it all in. Nightmares at night, long silence during the day as they roamed the interior of Crystal Peak, before refugees had come into place to survive the nuclear winter, and after that, the machines. And he'd had no idea how to make it better. He'd tried, certainly, but he could only guess if he was making things worse or not. And always wondering if he was doing it because he was meant to, because in some future they'd been together, or because of…other reasons.

Even now, over a decade after Judgement Day, and years since they'd exchanged vows, he didn't know. But he did know that the war was still on, and that if it was the war his mother had told him about or not, he had to fight it. And that Kate couldn't waste time on him when others needed her. So he started to get to his feet.

"John, no."

He ignored her and walked over to the tattered remnants of a couch where his body armour was kept. "Kate, where are my guns?"

"John, stop this."

"Kate, I need to talk to Li, and I'm not doing that before I-"

"**John!"**

He looked at her, and saw the way she was glaring at him. He sighed – he knew where this was going.

"Fine," he grunted. He headed for the door. "I can do it without guns."

"John, Li isn't going to see you." She put herself between him and the door.

"Get out of the way Kate."

"John, you can't keep doing this."

"Doing what?"

"This. Just…fighting."

"I've been fighting my whole life Kate."

"John, no. You have limits."

"Get out of the way Kate."

"No-one's blaming you for your squad today, but-"

His forehead twitched. "Get out of the way, Kate."

"…but you need time to-"

"God damn it, move!"

She didn't. She just leant back against the door and folded her arms. And on instinct, his right hand clenched into a fist, and he almost threw a punch at her. He didn't, but his fist remained trembling all the same. Given how her eyes moved, he could see that she could see it. But nevertheless, she remained there. Just standing between him and the outside world. In silence.

He knew he could easily get out if it came to a fight. He was the fighter. Kate was the healer – even when they'd been out in the field together before she'd been pulled off frontline duty, as doctors were too precious to risk on the field. Twelve years of being in proximity, three years since tying the knot, and their relationship had become based on doing their own thing away from each other 90% of the time. Or at least, that was how he saw it. How Kate saw it he couldn't be sure, but he couldn't imagine there being much warmth from her. He'd come back into her life on the day she'd lost her father, her fiancé, and her world. He couldn't imagine that there was a timeline where she didn't resent him in part for that. Besides, half the Resistance resented him already. John Connor. The so-called Warrior Prophet. The man who always survived. The one who was probably crazy, going on about machines from the future, and who'd swayed the other half into thinking he was the bloody messiah.

He was sick of it. So sick of it, that he turned away and laid back down on the bed, putting his right hand over his eyes, rubbing them. If he slept, the dreams would come back. If he stayed awake, he'd have to deal with the jackhammer assaulting his forehead.

"How many?" John murmured.

Kate didn't say anything, so he repeated himself. "How many?"

"One-hundred and fourteen dead, four-hundred and fifty-nine injured," his wife whispered.

John remained silent – _too many, _he reflected.

"But Phoenix is ours," Kate said. He heard her walk over close to the bed. "There's that at least. We own Arizona now, so we can move on Skynet's bases in California."

John grunted.

"John, come on. That has to mean something to you."

He didn't say anything.

"John?" She took his hand in hers. "John."

"Doesn't matter," he murmured. "I die, people die, doesn't matter."

"John, you don't mean that."

"A fifteen year old girl died in my arms today," John whispered. "Thought I was her father while she did so." He winced, trying to remove the image from his mind. "People keep dying for me…my father died for me before I was born…machines from the future died for me, _twice_…my mother died trying to tell me a lie because I didn't want to face the future like she had…and since then…" He sat up, on the edge of the bed, and met Kate's eyes. "People keep dying," he said. "They die, I survive, more people follow me, and they die. Like, I'm fated to stay alive, while others aren't."

"I don't believe that," Kate murmured. "No fate. That's what you told me once, right?"

"No fate," he murmured. "Couldn't stop Judgement Day from falling. Couldn't save your father. Couldn't save Scott."

"John, I've never blamed you for that."

"But hey, it doesn't matter," John said. He forced a smile, because right now, it was about the only thing preventing him from falling into tears. "I mean, I need to lead the Resistance one day, right? So, doesn't matter if people keep dying for me then. Need to toughen up. Stop caring."

"John…"

"Like…" He couldn't help it. A tear came down from his eye and he wiped it aside. "Like, three billion people died on Judgement Day. Well, that gives me another three billion to throw at the machines until victory. Because that's what I…what I'm meant to do and…and…and I don't want it!"

He couldn't help it. He clutched the sheets and began to cry. Just as he had as a child, before his mother told him to toughen up. As he had, on that day in 1995 where everything changed. Where he'd lost the closest thing to a father he'd ever known. A father who'd sacrificed himself for the future, and only brought John Connor an extra seven years of bliss. And as much as he hated himself for it, as ashamed as he was to be crying in the presence of a grown woman, he couldn't help it. The tears came, released from a dam that had been erected on the day he was born. Out in the desert, where little water, and no tears, could be spared.

"I don't want this," he said. "I never wanted it. But it came. I ran, and it still came. Half the Resistance wants me dead, the other half wants me to lead them, and…and I can't lead an army Kate. My mother thought I could, but I can't, and people keep dying, and…"

"John," Kate said. She knelt down and took his hands in hers. "Have you ever thought that _because_ you care, that you're the right person to lead?"

He remained silent. He tried to compose himself, but he was more caught up in the question as to how Kate could bear to be beside him when he'd bawled like an infant.

"I'm not a leader Kate," he said. "I'm not…"

"John, people listen to your broadcasts for a reason. People want to fight beside you for a reason. There's a reason why half the Resistance looks up to you, and there's a reason you're here."

He grunted. "Fate?"

"John, you're here because of _you_."

He looked at her. She looked at him, not even hiding the tears in her eyes. Not hiding anything as she kissed him.

John didn't react. It wasn't the first time their lips had met (not even counting that time as kids), and chances were, it wouldn't be the last. Or, maybe it would be. Because he just sat there, his mind on people other than his wife. People he'd let himself get attached to before they died. And if fate did exist, if the future _was _written, then that meant that he would be fated to die in 2032. How could he open himself up to Kate if the time they had together was limited by time itself?

He didn't know. Her kissing him didn't provide the answers, any more than her drawing back and looking at him, the tears still in her eyes. She'd opened herself up to him, he hadn't moved the door an inch. So he sat there in silence, and remained silent before she patted him on the leg.

"Get some rest John."

He watched as she got up and headed for the door – how her long red hair blew in the wind, and how the moonlight shined upon her. How her left hand took the door knob, that same light shining upon the gold on her finger. How she began to turn, but never opened, as he got up and began kissing her in turn. Kissing her, and receiving in return.

_This is how it happened._

The thought lurked in his head the moment his lips touched hers. But it wasn't until their clothes had hit the floor, and their bodies had hit the bed, that the thought returned, and then some.

_This is how I was born._

Kyle Reese had come from the future to save Sarah Connor. In doing so, Kyle Reese had become his father – perhaps like he was always meant to be. His mother had told him about what had happened that night, and just as importantly, what had happened afterwards. Kyle Reese had died, so that John Connor could live, to send his father back to die.

"John?" Kate whispered.

And now, he was on the verge of doing the same thing. Kate was beneath him. Her hair spread out around her head, her eyes looking up into his, her skin pressed against his. Looking at him. Waiting for him.

"John, what's wrong?"

"Kate, I…" He took a breath, unsure about what to say. He'd told her everything. Told her, and she'd believed all of it. Eventually, he said, "My father…"

"John," Kate whispered. She put her finger on his lips. "You're not your father. And you don't have to be." Moving her hand from his mouth, she took his hand in hers, and ran it across her chest, then down her leg. "You can still feel. And you're not going anywhere." She paused, as did her hand, and his. "I'm not going anywhere. And I'm never letting go."

He kissed her, and she remained true to her word. As did he, as their child were conceived.

_Later, your children will be important._

Maybe the Terminator was right. Maybe not. But he knew who'd been important in his life before. Who was important now. And who would be important in the years ahead.

And as he kissed her, as his father had kissed his mother all those years ago, he knew he'd never stop fighting. That he'd always fight for her.

That he'd fight for all of them.

* * *

_A/N_

_So, truth be told, this is kind of two ideas melded into one. Namely the idea of alternate characters having alternate fates in alternate timelines - Dani wasn't going to be in this originally, but I changed an OC to be her. Because while _Genisys and Revelations _is basically an exercise in this idea, I've always kind of liked the idea of different characters from different timelines meeting themselves, or failing that, having different outcomes based on those timelines. This is common for a lot of characters in the series (e.g. John and Sarah), but not so much for minor ones. _

_Second idea was kind of exploring how John's "daddy issues" might affect his relationship with Kate. However, I do admit that the melding of these two ideas probably makes the oneshot uneven, in that I've effectively got 4000 words of action followed by 3000 words of drama. However, that was still too short to justify converting this into a multi-chapter. Though quick question - going by _Salvation_, we know that Kate conceives in 2016, but is still pregnant in 2018, but very near birth. If John's children are born in 2018, they'd be 14 in 2032, when the T-850 killed him. So how important could they possibly be by the time of their father's death? Were they conceived earlier in an original timeline? Or is T3 talking out of its arse? _

_Dunno, but as T3 is my least favourite installment in the series, I'll go with that. :P_


End file.
